


dragon breaths from muffled mouths

by luciiddream



Category: South Park
Genre: Angst, Everyone thinks you are a boy, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Like really slow, M/M, Most superpowers are play-pretend, Not Beta Read, Other, Reader is Douchebag, Slow Burn, South Park: The Fractured But Whole, South Park: The Stick of Truth, Story takes place over several years, and Kenny questions his sexuality a lot because of you
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:55:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28368747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luciiddream/pseuds/luciiddream
Summary: You both burst out laughing, puffs of white vapor escaping Kenny's orange parka. Your mouth and nose were fully covered by the red scarf, but Kenny could perfectly see the way your eyes crinkled up and twinkle in amusement.Maybe it was the expression that was gracing your normally stoic face, the hints of rosy pinks that your scarf was infuriatingly concealing, or maybe the laugh that was fascinatingly more feminine than he expected, but at that moment, Kenny had the sudden urge to unwrap the soft fabric and see whether or not the New Kid's smile was as cute as he imagined.If you were a girl, who knew how long would it be until Kenny fell completely and utterly captivated by you…Too bad the New Kid was a boy.[ratings may change.]
Relationships: Kenny McCormick/New Kid | Douchebag, Kenny McCormick/Reader, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Mysterion (South Park)/Reader, New Kid | Douchebag/Mysterion (South Park)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 43





	dragon breaths from muffled mouths

“Wake up sweetie, we’re here.”

Your mom’s mummers roused you from your short slumber, her gently smiling face greeting you from the passenger seat. You tiredly rub the sleep from your eyes as you squinted at the glaringly white light that entered the windows, a sea of white snow blurring before your eyes.

You fell asleep a couple of hours before, lulled to sleep from the rhythmic sizzle of tire against wet road. You’d been on the road since early in the morning, and at the time, a nap hadn’t sounded so bad after feeling bored out of your mind after seeing the 137th snow-covered mountain. It also certainly didn’t help that your parents decided to spontaneously move again in the middle of the school year, which frankly, you stopped bothering to care what their next excuse was a long time ago, but it still made your entire body feel heavy with emotional and physical exhaustion. Of course, you knew they did it for you – whatever that reason was – but you just wished that they could at least talk to you about it sometimes. Sure, you were technically still a kid but that didn’t mean that you wouldn’t be able to handle reason.

Yawning, you lean forward and softly asked how much longer was the drive. Your dad’s [e/c] eyes met yours from the rearview mirror.

“Just a bit longer kiddo! Only fifteen more minutes until we reach our new home!” he cheerfully quipped. You winced as his “enthusiasm” grated into your brain.

Sighing, you snuggled deeper into the human-shaped burrow of heat you created on your seat, relishing in the warmth as you drifted in and out of sleep.

Gentle hands shook you to wake, but the chill instantly startled you from your groggy stupor.

An almost obnoxiously red house stood in front of you, sticking out from the surrounding snow like a sore thumb. Oh, the disappointment you felt when you saw the crossed out “For Sale” sign.

You heard your dad call out your name and hurried to the moving boxes and mixed-matched suitcases, helping your parents slowly bring in the furniture.

ooo

The sea of flimsy cardboard felt imposing and in your new room, but it was also the only thing preventing you from freezing your toes off. You internally groaned and cursed the woes of moving, but it wasn’t before long you dusted your navy-blue duffel coat off after finding it cushioned under an old globe you forgot you even packed. The old thing was scratchy and rough, and one of the button-thingies was missing, but it would be better than hypothermia.

You took one last glance around the now sparsely decorated bedroom before closing the door behind you. It wasn’t much, but it would be good enough for now you decided.

Your parents stood ominously in the middle of the living room in a heated hushed argument. Their eyes flick over to the source of the wooden creak and almost instantaneously change face when they greeted you. They would never make it in Hollywood though; their smiles never quite matched their eyes.

“Sit down kiddo, we’ve got some news for you.”

You wait patiently as the silence lingered, switching your gaze between them. His nose scrunches and mulls over his words before he sharpens it and plunges it deep in your gut.

“Y/n, we need you to pretend to be a boy.”

You stare. Your parents don’t falter.

They weren’t joking.

“Sweetie…” your mother pleads, “We’ve been over this already…”

You grimaced, looking anywhere but at your parents. Your mom wasn’t wrong, you _had_ been over this, but it didn’t mean that you would be happy about it. Something about “making it harder for those fuckers in suits from catching on” yada-yada. Sure, one could argue that it wouldn’t make much of a difference anyway since you already wore ambiguously-gendered clothing and muted dull colors, but hiding a part of your identity from others felt… disingenuous? You valued honesty, but it seemed like you were going to be denied that for the remainder of who-knows-how-long until your parents decide to go back on the road.

But most importantly, pretending to be a boy would most likely render you mute.

You were already a pretty quiet person, and oddly, people found you charismatic without you ever uttering a word, but that didn’t mean you wanted to be completely mute.

“Does that mean I won’t be able to talk anymore?”

Your parents glanced at each other, a silent exchange from one furrowed brow to another. Slowly, your dad turned and met your eyes.

“Sorry kiddo, but I--we” he corrected, wrapping an arm around your mom’s waist, “don’t think that would be a good idea. Your voice has always been too feminine and high to be passed off as a boy.” ending his explanation with a smile that didn’t quite match his eyes.

You knew this already, but he only confirmed what you feared. The truth tasted bitter on the tongue.

But if hopelessness tasted bitter, then your father’s pathetic attempt at comforting overwhelmed your tongue with the nasty sourness of bile, like the kind of nauseating layer of sharpness that lingers after throwing up. His sudden sweetness felt more like gorging on candy and then feeling sick than a soothing lollipop from the doctor, but it hurt more when you realized that he really didn’t care to empathize with your situation.

You nod, staring at the clumpy carpet as you tried to ignore the pleased grin your father had from your silence. You felt like choking on the lump in your throat.

Your mom coughed awkwardly in response.

“Uh well sweetie, we want you to have- enjoy yourself here, maybe go out and make some friends. I left you an allowance on the kitchen counter; why don’t you go and get it?”

Their hushed bickering followed you as you turned and entered the kitchen. Stuffing the bills into your pocket, you slide the back door open, opting the long way around then going through the living room again.

The air was still icy, but it didn’t matter that much anymore. The blanket of apathy had once again encased your entire being, and quiet anger simmered and warmed you from the inside out. It was frustrating, but there was nothing you could do.

At least the numbness was familiar.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> This is the first work of fiction I've written in a while so I apologize for any awkward mistakes.


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